Of the Dodgers’ 19 franchise World Series appearances, Roger Owens has now pitched in the more than half of those — 10, including the current Fall Classic.

Although before Tuesday, “The Peanut Man” wasn’t completely sure.

Sitting up in Dodger Stadium’s reserved level some seven hours prior to the end of the Dodgers’ 7-6 11-inning Game 2 loss to the Astros, perhaps the sport’s world most recognized peanut vendor flipped through a newspaper story about the Dodgers’ postseason history and started checking off the dates off, going back to 1959 when he was a teenager at the Coliseum.

Yup, it’s 10.

No, really, it’s 10.

Boy, he must be nuts. Fifty-nine years of this.

“And I don’t even have peanut elbow,” the hurler who’ll turn 75 next Valentine’s Day humbly bragged.

Just some arthritis from years of tossing bags behind the back, under the leg, two at a time overhand from distances that you’d have thought by now wouldn’t be easily attainable.

Regular back pain from a bulging disc is eased by a couple of ice bags and some Advil at his home in Torrance after each night’s command performance. An ongoing case of vertigo may also pop up to make climbing the concrete stairs a bit of a challenge.

That Owens has made it to this point as the ultimate loge level wandering minstrel covering the territory from home plate to third base and back again, energized and efficient as he twists through the aisles and embraces spectators coming at him from all sides for selfies and autographs and joke swapping … it just doesn’t seem possible.

Yet no one takes him, or his routine, for granted.

“It’s my love for my job, and my love for the fans — it’s just a passion,” Owens explains about what could possibly motivate him at this point to keep hoisting eight-ounce bags at $6.25 a pop.

It’s not just for the tips, which this postseason have been rather sizable as enthusiastic fans want to include him in their celebratory mood.

“I don’t know what else I’d do from April through every high note in October,” he says. “No matter how many steps it takes up and down. I know the fans appreciate me year after year and I’m grateful.”

Equally humbled fans who Owens has become friends with over the years will talk about how they shell out money before each season to make sure that they, or whomever is in their seats, get Owens to personally deliver their peanut requests in Hollywood fashion. They could easily go up to the concession stand and add the cost of the nuts on their credit card, but they have established this tradition that goes back to the days when Owens’ special tosses were the two-to-a-bag paper bags balled up.

Owens found himself in Section 101 visiting with Brian Martin, a businessman from Lake Forest, during the first inning of Monday’s Game 1 when, in the middle of a sentence, Chris Taylor launched the first pitch into the left-field pavilion for a home run.

“We started hugging and jumping up and down together,” said Owens.

“It’s such a privilege. The people in that loge section, they’re like my family, and now they’re into the third and fourth generation. That just blows our minds.”

Dodgers third baseman Justin Turner will tell you that when he was a kid in Long Beach and his dad brought him to Dodgers’ games, Owens was the one everyone knew at Chavez Ravine.

National anthems still give Owens goosebumps and tears. Kids who try and try again to catch the bags he throws their way before they finally catch on make Owens laugh. Games that are tight in the late innings make him sweat as much as his stair-climbing workout, he insists.

“I might have my back to the field while I’m working, but I’ll hear the crack of the bat, and turn around to see Puig making some kind of crazy catch or sticking his tongue out, and it’s all worth it,” Owens said.

Celebrities may come and go at Dodger Stadium, but history counts Owens among those worthy of throwing out a season-opening ceremonial first pitch — as he did from the loge level down to home plate once.

He’s been in a movie (a peasant peanut pitcher in Mel Brooks’ 1993 “Robin Hood: Men In Tights”) and his TV appearances on NBC’s “Tonight” show goes back to the Johnny Carson days.

His bobblehead was created by Ontario-based Ultimate Pastime Sports Collectibles, and the story of his audacious life, “The Perfect Pitch,” from foster care to grind-it-out discovery of his talents, written by his late nephew, has been in circulation since 2004.

The stories he brings home to wife Sharon and his dog Casey III are fortified by whom he reconnects with on a nightly basis.

A fan may watch Rich Hill walk the first batter he faced Tuesday night and scream to Owens, “You should be out there!”

Owens has a stock reply.

“You know, the Dodgers have talked to my agent and offered me $300,000 to pitch in August, September and October — which sounds like a lot, but who wants to take a pay cut? Besides, my EBA — Earned Bags Average — is below one.”

Tom Hoffarth is a freelancer. He had been with the Daily News/Southern California News Group since 1992 as a general assignment sports reporter, columnist and specialist in the sports media. He has been honored by the Associated Press for sports columnists and honored by the Southern California Sports Broadcasters Association for his career work. His favorite sportscaster of all time: Vin Scully, for professional and personal reasons. He considers watching Zenyatta win the Breeders' Cup 2009 Classic to be the most memorable sporting event he has covered in his career. Go figure that.